


Equinox

by damnata



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Covens, Cults, Law Enforcement, M/M, Magic Shop, This is a bad idea lol end me, Wicca, implied slavery, ritual killings, ritual self-harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:15:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23081572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damnata/pseuds/damnata
Summary: “Is he here?” Magnus asked, his voice shaking. “Is he in New York?”“Yes,” Alec said regretfully and within seconds Magnus was a scared child once again, surrounded by blood and the screams of the innocent. He looked at Alec with wide eyes, shaking his head as if trying to deny the truth.It was all in vain.“We believe he is looking for you.”
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 45
Kudos: 136





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I found this THING I was supposed to write for Halloween and never ended up posting. Somehow, it got my interest again so here I am, starting yet another thing.

“Merry meet,” Magnus said as he came to a stop next to the tall stranger who was busy browsing the vast collection of candles in Magnus´ shop. “Can I help you?”

The stranger, whom Magnus had already aptly nicknamed “ _ Mr Hot Customer _ ” in his head, jumped slightly, clearly startled, before turning towards Magnus with wide eyes and a smile tugging on his lips.

“Merry meet,” He greeted back. “I´m just uh… looking for some candles,” He pointed at the shelves next to him. “Beeswax. Black and pink. Maybe some gold if you have any in stock, I´m running low on those.”

“Organic?”

“Yes, please.”

Magnus hummed thoughtfully as he collected the candles from a lower shelf that the handsome stranger had probably missed, wondering about the type of spellwork he would be performing. It was a curious mixture of colours. Black candles were most commonly used for binding and protection spells as well as to repel negativity while pink candles were used for love spells as they represented affection, romance and nurturing. Gold candles were widely used by male practitioners as the colour stood for the horned god and the power of the male.

Magnus felt his interest in the stranger grow even more. He was clearly a Wiccan just as Magnus himself was as he had recognised and returned the greeting without a pause. Even more, he must have been good at his craft because he knew to prefer beeswax candles to those made of paraffin. 

“Would these work for you?” Magnus asked, handing the other man the candles. He took them with a smile, a shiver going through him when their hands accidentally touched. Blushing, the man continued to examine the candles, seemingly pleased by the colour and feel of them.

“Yes, thank you.”

Magnus nodded and headed back to the register, not wanting to be the type of shopkeeper who kept breathing down his customer´s necks. Finding the right tools for spellwork was often a tricky task that required the practitioner's full attention, a lot of insight and some breathing room to get a feel of the items.

Still, he kept an eye on the man as he browsed the goods, noticing how he hovered an open palm above a necklace made of a large piece of polished moonstone before pulling it away with a grimace. There had been an obnoxious woman in Magnus´ store in the morning, sporting actual robes and heavy raccoon eyes that had tried the necklace on, all the while reciting false information about the stone to one of her friends.

The necklace had, no doubt, come in contact with the large pendant the woman wore that bore the sigil of Lucifer. Magnus would have to take the moonstone home and soak it in spring water and moonlight if he wanted to sell it to any practitioner that knew their craft.

This joy of a customer that he had in his store now, however, seemed to be very mindful of the items displayed and aware of his own energetic residue, only touching them to confirm a pull and setting them aside in a way that Magnus could easily collect them in order to purify them later if they weren´t an ideal match. He picked the herbs and oils he needed with a sure hand, without needing time to read the informational posters Magnus had set out for other customers.

Magnus sighed and forced himself to concentrate on his Book of Shadows, picking up the fountain pen he had discarded in favour of helping his mystery shopper. It wouldn´t do his business any good if he were to be caught drooling at his customers.

He spent some time writing down a healing spell he had recently learned from Catarina, listing all the ingredients and their possible substitutes as well as the steps of the ritual before going over and adding this and that to the correspondence tables.

Magnus idly noticed that Samhain was drawing near. He should remember to make plans with Ragnor and Catarina to honour the Crone and his aged Consort as well as to honour their ancestors. Many used this time to hone their psychic and divinatory skills, especially with regard to love and magic.

He pondered if that was what the other man was planning on doing.

There was some slight shuffling before him and Magnus raised his head just enough to stare at the face of his new favourite customer. The man had hazel eyes. Magnus wondered how he didn´t notice before.

“Uh...I don´t want to bother you but I´d like to buy these.”

“Yes, of course,” Magnus said, quickly shutting his Book of Shadows and storing it underneath the oak countertop. “That´s what I´m here for, after all!”

The man smiled at him again and laid the items down so Magnus could punch them in. He was actually doing some heavy shopping, Magnus noted. There were several bundles of herbs, crystals and gemstones that he had picked up. Garnet and rose quartz, juniper, rue and vervain - all of them used to find love.

“Have you tried Tinder?” Magnus joked. The man instantly blushed red, scratching at the back of his head in embarrassment.

“No, I um..” He stuttered.

“I´m sorry, I shouldn´t have pried.” Magnus amended. “We all want to be loved, there's nothing shameful about it.”

“It´s just that it has been a long time since...I´ve been patient but fate seems to need a little push.”

Magnus hummed as he placed the items in a paper bag, internally wincing for making “ _ Mr Hot Customer _ ” uncomfortable but at the same time feeling pleased with the knowledge that he was indeed single and not trying to mend a broken relationship.

“Here you go,” He said to the man, sliding the bag and a coupon for a 50% discount that also served as a business card across the counter. “I don´t really make a habit out of embarrassing my customers. I hope you can forgive me.”

He would really like to see this particular customer again.

“It´s nothing, really,” He said, studying the card before turning his piercing gaze on Magnus. “Magnus Bane. That´s a powerful name.”

“Great destruction, yes. Although I don´t really destroy much of anything other than my reputation in front of new customers.”

“Again, its no worry. I wasn´t offended or anything.” The man chuckled. “It was nice meeting you, Magnus. Perhaps if this all doesn´t work I´ll give Tinder a try.”

“It was nice meeting you too…”

“Alec.”

“Alec,” Magnus repeated warmly. He had a hunch it was a nickname. “I hope it works out well for you. Merry part.”

“I hope so too. Blessed be, Magnus.”

With that, Alec turned and headed out of the door, the little bell above it tinkling as a gust of fresh autumn air was let in. Magnus rested his elbows on the counter and watched him go until he was lost from sight. 

Lately, he had been feeling lonely as well. Perhaps he should consider adding some spells for love and companionship to his plans for Samhain.

It was weeks before Alec visited his shop again. Samhain had come and past and so had the endless throngs of people looking for cartoonish witch hats and brooms. It was slower now as the excitement over hocus pocus faded and Magnus didn´t mind it one bit as his cat was keener to accompany him to the shop when it wasn´ t bustling with people.

He was sitting behind the counter with his feet propped on it, a book in his hands and Chairman Meow in his lap when the shop door opened and Alec emerged, his face half-covered with a maroon scarf. It was a miserable November day and Magnus had fortunately evaded having to trek through New York in this cold weather thanks to living just above his shop.

“Welcome, Alexander,” He greeted, almost knocking over the cup of tea he had sitting on the counter with his haste to get his feet off of it. Chairman Meow dug his claws into Magnus´ thighs and hissed annoyedly before jumping off and scampering to hide under a shelf of dried herbs. “Merry meet.”

“Merry meet,” Alec mumbled from underneath his scarf before pulling it down with a jerky motion. “Wait, how did you know my name?”

Magnus frowned. “You told me your name the last time you were here.”

“No one really calls me Alexander.”

“Oh, I can keep calling you Alec if you´d like?”

Alec smiled. The tip of his nose, as well as the tops of his ears, were red from the cold. Magnus didn´t think he could be charmed further but here he was, falling like a fool for a man he hardly knew.

“It´s fine either way, I don´t mind,” Alec took a look over the shop before approaching the counter and leaning against it with his elbows, his eyes trained on Charman Meow who had tentatively slinked out from under the shelves and was now staring at Alec with wide green eyes.

“Hello, there,” Alec said to the cat, beckoning her over and, surprisingly, the cat went willingly, hopping on the counter and sniffing at Alec´s hand curiously. “Aren´t you a precious thing. Is she you familiar?”

“Kind of, when she wants to be,” Magnus hummed. “She´s lousy at it but I love her anyway.”

Two pairs of eyes stared at Magnus, both seeming equally offended.

“You´re lying, I believe she´s a terrific familiar. Aren´t you, pretty baby?” Alec cooed at the cat, scratching under her chin.

Magnus´ heart stuttered in his chest. Chairman Meow purred soundly.

“She keeps knocking stuff off of my altar. I have reason to believe she´s doing it on purpose.” 

Alec hummed, not seeming to believe him in the slightest. “I actually came to buy a scroll if you have any? Parchment or papyrus, preferably with rollers.” 

“Sure!” Magnus said, heading to the shelves that held all of the scrolls he had for sale. “Any colour preference?”

“I wouldn´t want it to be bleached.”

Magnus returned with two scrolls, laying both of them on the table. One was a darker amber coloured scroll with simple rollers and the other was a lighter sand toned scroll that had intricately carved rollers depicting stylised dragons with brass details. 

“I´ll take this one,” Alec said, pointing at the fancier scroll. “It seems to suit an artist type.”

“Oh, you´re buying it as a gift?”

Alec chuckled then, a slightly ominous sound. “Not quite. It´s for a new member of our coven. The first task is to copy the Rede and the rules.”

“Oh, no,” Magnus sighed, knowing how tedious copying could be.

“With a quill,” Alec added, his grin growing.

Magnus huffed. “You´re a monster!”

“I was my mother´s idea, she´s the high-priestess of our coven. Copying a long document is supposed to teach our new member patience and self-discipline as well as the rules.”

“That´s actually quite clever,” Magnus amended. “Is your coven large?”

“I don´t think its the largest in New York but it's old enough to have some sway over the other covens. We are more of a family, to be honest. What about you? Do you belong in a coven?”

Magnus frowned to himself. He had been steering clear from covens and gatherings of all kinds since he escaped his father´s cult.

“No,” He told Alec. “I have a few close friends in the craft that I consider family, though. We are lone practitioners but we usually come together to celebrate the pagan holidays. Catarina is an amazing healer and Ragnor is the most useful little green warlock there is. He lives in a cottage just outside New York and grows most of the herbs I sell. Dorothea is an elemental witch, very useful, and Raphael is a dowser.”

“And you? What do you specialise in?” Alec asked. He was leaning towards Magnus, listening with intent. Or, Magnus dared to think, interest.

“Oh, this and that. Potions, alchemy, runes…”

_ Curses _ . He thought bitterly.  _ Necromancy _ .  _ Death _ .

“I´m more of an eclectic warlock,” He said. “There is still so much to learn, don´t you think?”

Alec hummed in agreement but his gaze was now locked on the counter where he was tracing something with his finger. He seemed worried, anxious.

“I guess I´m a hereditary warlock,” He finally said, quietly. “My family...we specialise in blood magic. Not everyone in our coven does but we believe in giving before receiving.”

Oh, it made sense that Alec was worried. For many practitioners, blood magic was considered a taboo. Blood represented pain and passion, life and death. It was the very essence of a person´s being and one of the strongest ingredients in a witches arsenal. 

There weren´t many people who dared to use their body for spellwork, who dared to become so completely intertwined with their magic. 

There were even fewer  _ families _ …

“You´re a Trueblood,” Magnus said, taken aback. The Trueblood family was old and powerful with a well-documented history. The family originated from France but had been forced to relocate to Spain during the height of the witch-hunt before sailing to America and settling in Salem. Within a few years, they had had to move again and finally took root in New York where the family had remained ever since.

Only Magnus´ own bloodline rivalled that of the Truebloods. Alexander must have known who he was the second he learned his name from the stupid gift card.

“I usually go by Lightwood in mundane proceedings but yes, my name is Alexander Gideon Lightwood Trueblood. The “blood” part seems to freak both mundanes and witches out.” He peeked up at Magnus, the look in his eyes so damningly endearing as if Magnus wasn´t the biggest goof to exist this side of New York.

_ Magnus Bane. That´s a powerful name. _

Stupid. So incredibly stupid.

“Can I have a few days to close the shop and pack up?” He asked, stepping away from Alec and pulling the hems of his cardigan tighter while simultaneously hugging his arms close to his body. He had felt a kinship towards Alec and now only felt betrayed. 

But it was his own fault, after all. He had gotten comfortable and hadn´t expected for Truebloods to keep tabs on lowly magic shops.

“What?” Alec asked, confused. “Why?”

“You know who I am,” Magnus said wearily. As a Trueblood, Alec would be privy to Magnus´ real name and identity. 

He was tired of running from both his father and the notoriety his bloodline brought him. He was tired of paying for the sins of the people he himself loathed.

Magnus had liked living in New York, had adored the bustling city with its variety of weird and wonderful. He had friends here, people he called a family. A business, a purpose. But there was no point in arguing with a Trueblood, much less the whole family of them. They owned the veiled world of New York and they were set on kicking Magnus out, as was their right.

Chairman Meow, sensing his distress, hopped on the table and pressed her fluffy head against Magnus´ arm. She was a good familiar after all.

“Of course I know who you are,” Alec frowned. “Which is why I trust you.”

“You´re insane. I belonged to the Cult of Edom. Asmodeus is my father.”

“You  _ escaped  _ from the Cult of Edom,” Alec corrected him kindly. “You didn´t choose to be born as your father´s son or to belong to the cult, Magnus. You were just a child.”

“But you know what I´ve done. You know that I´ve used black magic.”

Magnus´ fingers curled further into the soft wool of his cardigan, a disgusted shiver going through him as he remembered the black magic coursing through him, coating him like oil from the inside and leaving its mark.

“We know,” Alec stated. “I speak the truth when I say that meeting you was just a happenstance. However, it is fortunate that I did.”

“How come?” Magnus asked, a feeling of dread washing over him.

“My family, we work in law enforcement. My mother, my step-brother Jace and I are with the NYPD. My sister Isabelle is a forensic pathologist.”

“Alexander, please.”

“There have been a string of ritualistic murders,” Alec said, his voice apologetic but firm at the same time. “The MO matches those committed by the members of the Cult of Edom.”

Magnus felt sick. He couldn´t breathe.

“My mother would like to meet you. She wishes to take you under the protection of the Trueblood family in exchange for your service as a consultant while we work on this case.”

“Is he here?” Magnus asked, his voice shaking. “Is he in New York?”

“Yes,” Alec said regretfully and within seconds Magnus was a scared child once again, surrounded by blood and the screams of the innocent. He looked at Alec with wide eyes, shook his head as if trying to deny the truth.

It was all in vain.

“We believe he is looking for you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That had been about two decades ago, however, and a lot had changed. The boy had grown into a man who obviously knew how to take care of himself even though right now he was drawn and grey in the face, his shaking fingers wrapped around a plastic cup of less-than-desirable police station coffee. 
> 
> He looked lost and miserable but then again, grief tended to do that to people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya, so I´m turning this mess into a chaptered mess. The chapters will, however, be on the shorter side as like long-ass chapters intimidate me and then I will keep pushing it to the side and never finish it and honestly, I don't have a set plan for this fic as it was meant to be a Halloween one-off.
> 
> Also, I know nothing about how law enforcement works I´ve never even talked to a cop.

The first time Maryse saw the son of Asmodeus, she had only been a regular officer in the NYPD, still earning her place in the force. She had been working a graveyard shift when the boy was brought into the precinct shivering, barefoot and caked in blood, hissing in a language no one but Maryse could understand as he clawed and kicked at the officer who had an iron-tight grasp on his wrist.

“ _ Let me go!” _ The child howled in Gehennic, his teeth bared in a snarl and his thin limbs flailing about wildly. His hair was matted to his face with dried blood and despite the early November chill, he was wearing little else than a pair of dark knee-length trousers and a black cape. 

“ _ Let me go! _ ” He demanded again before snapping his head towards Maryse, his wild eyes locking with hers as his nostrils flared slightly and he seemed to collect himself in almost a regal manner, most likely sensing the woman´s magical imprint. “ _ Tell this lowly creature to unhand me, now! _ ”

“ _ Quiet, _ ” Maryse commanded, her voice firm but not unkind. The boy stopped his struggling, eyeing Maryse with a look that was at once sheepish and disgruntled. She mentioned officer Greenwater to release the child, which the man did, moving instead to guard the exit. Even though the child looked to be of little threat, he seemed flighty enough to try and run if given the chance.

“ _ No one here will harm you, _ ” She said soothingly, kneeling down on the floor to seem less threatening to the boy. Maryse couldn´t help but to think of Alec who seemed to be about the same age as this strange child, how frightened he would be all alone and cold, surrounded by strangers. ” _ I promise you, in the name of my kith and kin, that you are safe here. _ ”

Holding a placating hand out, Maryse waited patiently for the boy to come to her. It took a while for his shoulders to relax ever so slightly, and even longer for him to take the first hesitant step forwards. Then, all of a sudden as if a dam had broken, the boy´s lower lip trembled and his eyes filled with tears. He ran to Maryse, who caught his bony form in her arms and did her best to not flinch at the nauseating stench of old blood and death that surrounded the child as he burrowed his face into her neck, gasping the same phrase over and over again, stumbling over the words that made Maryse´s insides grow cold.

“ _ They killed my mama. _ ”

That had been about two decades ago, however, and a lot had changed. The boy had grown into a man who obviously knew how to take care of himself even though right now he was drawn and grey in the face, his shaking fingers wrapped around a plastic cup of less-than-desirable police station coffee. 

He looked lost and miserable but then again, grief tended to do that to people.

“I´m sorry for your loss,” Maryse said quietly. The boy, with a new name of Magnus Bane, fleetingly looked up at her and then down into the murky coffee again.

“Thank you,” He said with a voice raw and raspy from crying. He had arrived at the station shortly after getting the call and, after identifying that the cold body on the slab was, indeed, Ragnor Fell, had fallen into such hysterics that Maryse had had to secure one of his wrists into a magic-proofed handcuff in order to prevent accidental hard magic spellcasting even though it was known from the Gray Book that he had lost most of his magical abilities right before he was found wandering the streets of New York alone. 

His feelings were understandable, of course. Ragnor Fell had been the one to take the half-feral child in after his trembling testimony of seeing his mother burned alive as an offering to the demon Asmodeus had led to the downfall and dismantling of one of the largest known cults to exist in the veiled world. The woman had tried to escape the cult, had left her own son in order to save herself and yet, the boy´s love for his mother had made him brave enough to leave behind and betray the only world he had ever known.

Ragnor Fell might have been the only person that selflessly loved the boy. Had clothed and fed and protected him without expecting anything in turn. Had become the only person a lost child could call his family.

And now he lay on the cold metal of the medical table in the basement of the precinct, with his limbs severed and his heart missing from his chest. He´d been found in his home by an elderly neighbour, laying on a sigil of Asmodeus, his decapitated head and severed limbs marking the ends of the pentagram drawn with his own blood. 

As usual for Asmodeus and his followers.

Both Alec and Isabelle had been sickened when they returned from the crime scene, unfamiliar with the stench of raw black magic. They had braved through, however, just as Maryse had taught them to, and now Alec´s report of the crime scene was on the table before her while Isabelle was busy working in the basement.

“Why are you keeping me here?” Magnus asked then, refusing to look Maryse in the face. “I´m not a suspect, you have already told me so. And...if you want me to bring him back,” His voice cracked at the word as if he were disgusted by the mere idea. “You know that I can´t.”

“I would never ask that from you,” Maryse said calmly, choosing not to linger on the fact that Magnus couldn´t use hard magic even if he wanted to, the trauma of his childhood too severe to allow him to reconnect with his magic. Not only that, but Ragnor Fell´s body was also in no state to be reanimated and sewing the parts together would take enough time so that the last of his soul would have left his remains by then. 

“I just want you to know that what happened is not your fault,” She finally settled on, to which Magnus scoffed derisively.

With all due respect, Lieutenant Lightwood, I´ve heard that from you before,” He said. “How much more until it becomes true?”

“You couldn´t have known that Asmodeus would target him. His motives rarely have any rhyme or reason.”

Magnus looked at Maryse as if he wanted to argue, his strange golden-hued eyed flashing in the low lights of the interrogation room. He seemed to think better of it then, his gaze once again dropping on the cup.

Maryse suddenly understood then that even though she had been the one to put an end to the Cult of Edom and had forced Asmodeus into hiding, no one knew him better than his own child.

“The offer that Detective Lightwood made is still on the table. I know that you were adamant in your refusal when my son spoke with you but unfortunately, in the light of recent events, your situation has grown more dire.”

There was a beat of careful silence as Magnus thought it over. Maryse knew that she was pressing, knew that Magnus must have blamed himself for not accepting the offer beforehand.

“What are the terms?”

“You would relocate into one of the safe houses with Detective Lightwood and Detective Herondale taking turns to guard the safe house and escort you to wherever you need to go for basic necessities. In turn, you will assist with the investigation to the best of your capabilities.”

“And my friends?” Magnus asked, his jaw set in a way that Maryse knew he would never accept the offer to be protected if it would put the people he loved in danger.

“Catarina Loss, Raphael Santiago and Dorothea Rollins are already under protective surveillance,” She said. “If there is anyone else…”

“There isn´t.”

Maryse was tactful enough not to make a mention of the little number of people Magnus seemed to have in his life. With a few quick taps on her tablet, she alerted Alec to be ready to collect Magnus from the interrogation room in order to escort him to his apartment before heading to the safe house.

“Are you...Are you sure you want your son around me? Death seems to follow me whether I want it or not. Perhaps…”

“My son knows his duty and knows how to protect both himself and those under his care,” Maryse said as she rose from her seat. “He is not alone in this and neither are you, Magnus.” She sent the man a small smile that he didn´t react to before moving to the door and stopping once again.

“Death is nothing but a part of life, Magnus. It´s scary and it´s unfair and yet it has to be accepted. The same goes for most people around us.”

With that she exited the room, giving herself just a brief moment to rest her back against the door she had just closed. She had the son of Asmodeus secured and now it fell on Alec to keep him this way. If Magnus were to give in to his magic, if he were to return to his father…

The veiled world had never faced a threat as severe as the young man who had lost so much and was now on the verge of losing himself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus hadn´t wanted to leave his home and Alec understood it well. A witches home was their personification as a place, the temple that held their altar, hearth and heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> I hope that everyone is happy and healthy and keeping social distance. :)
> 
> English tenses suck ohmygod.

_ “With my blood, I bind the faith to protect this home and those who dwell here from all harm and ill will.” _

Alec pulled his hand away from the door, his palm slightly sticking to the surface as the blood coating it had started to dry. With the tip of his athame, still stained with his blood, he carved the rune  _ Algiz  _ from Heimdall´s  ætt just above the handle of the door. Unlike Jace, he didn´t use runes often, preferring the more straightforward blood for deed type of magic, but even he couldn´t ignore the ancient hum he could feel coursing through his body, layers upon layers of magic and faith bestowed on the sigil giving it a name and a meaning.

Algiz was the most powerful defence rune known from the Elder Futhark, and, by all the deities Alec could name from the top of his head, they needed that protection. 

He moved to the east wall, forcing the wound on his palm to open once again with the sharp blade before placing it on the wall, smearing the white of it with his blood. Alec felt for the power in his veins, flowing smoothly alongside his blood, and called it forward, pushing it into the magical barrier he was building around the apartment that served as Magnus´ safe house.

_ “With my blood, I bind the faith to protect this home and those who dwell here from all harm and ill will.” _

The air around him rippled slightly as the two pieces of the spell knit together seamlessly. He carved another protection sigil under his bloody palmprint. The  _ Hr _ _ ætigaldur _ , a 13th-century Icelandic stave meant to put fear in the enemy. If all else failed, it would at least deter anyone with hostile intentions if only for a moment. 

Next came the southern wall and Alec went through the same motions - renew the cut on his palm, mark the wall, command his magic, add a protective sigil. There was a slight shuffling coming from the bedroom and Alec stopped for a moment, listening. It sounded like Magnus was preparing to go to bed.

That was good. At least he had stopped crying.

The drive to Magnus´ shop had been quiet and tense. Magnus hadn´t been willing to start any conversations and Alec didn´t have the heart to force any on him. The shop itself had seemed like it always did to Alec, bright and welcoming yet deeply mysterious, much like its owner. He could instantly spot signs of stress, though. The chair that Magnus usually sat on when business was slow had clattered to the floor on its side, most likely pushed back by Magnus in haste and a delicate porcelain cup lay in pieces on the counter, its contents soaking through the thin pages of papyrus scattered about.

Magnus had led him up the rickety stairs to his small apartment, unlocking the door scattered with different carvings and allowing him to step into the cramped entryway. The home had smelled a lot like the shop did, the warmth of spicy incense mixing with the earthiness of different herbs. As much as he had been able to see of the apartment, staying respectfully in the entryway, it was cosy if not a little cluttered with different kinds of magical objects and artefacts, yet still remaining tasteful and stylish.

Without words, Magnus had disappeared into the back rooms of the apartment to pack up his necessities while Alec waited idly. He had been just about to fish out his phone from his pocket when the other man passed him in a flash, handing him a ball of orange fur and vanishing once again.

“Hello, darling,” Alec had said quietly to the kitten, staring down at the wide green eyes blinking up at him. He´d cradled the cat securely in his arms, scratching behind her ears then and again as they watched Magnus flit from room to room, packing up clothes, books and altar ware. He had seemed rattled and sad, which was expected given the situation, but there had also been a kind of melancholy sluggishness in his movements.

Magnus hadn´t wanted to leave his home and Alec understood it well. A witches home was their personification as a place, the temple that held their altar, hearth and heart. 

“I´m ready,” Magnus had finally said, his voice merely above a whisper as he´d appeared before Alec with a suitcase and a duffel bag, shuffling uneasily from foot to foot. He had looked so lost and sad, so unlike the vivacious and vibrant shopkeeper that Alec knew.

And even though he didn´t know him that well, Alec´s heart still ached for his loss.

With a quiet sigh, he moved to the west wall and stopped at the door that led to the bedroom Magnus was currently occupying. There was no light coming from the cracks underneath the door so Alec figured the other man was already in bed. Very softly he placed his bleeding hand on the door, closed his eyes and pushed.

_ “With my blood, I bind the faith to protect this home and those who dwell here from all harm and ill will. With my blood, I ask for this home to be blessed with healing and happiness.” _

The wards around the apartment clicked into place, coating every wall and nook and cranny, encasing both him and Magnus in a protective bubble. Alec´s knees buckled and his breath got stuck in his lungs as his energy was drained from him and slowly siphoned into the wards, pulling and pulling until he found himself on his knees before Magnus´ door, a long streak of blood decorating the wooden surface.

He pulled the injured hand to his chest and breathed slowly, slightly rocking himself back and forth as he willed the haze of exhaustion to fade from his vision. Alec was trained for this, had given his blood and energy since he was a little child. He was a Trueblood and he was strong and yet sometimes he worried that the price of his power would one day be too much.

But that was the nature of their power. You gave as much as you took and sometimes you didn´t know the price until you had to pay for it. 

With a small grunt, he got back on his feet and carved the rune  _ Kenaz _ from Freya´s  ætt into the doorframe. A small sign to bind the vital fire of life to Magnus´ space, to aid him in the transformation and regeneration necessary for healing. With still wobbly legs Alec headed to the kitchen and put the kettle on so he could prepare some nettle tea from the stash he always kept in his overnight bag.

Even though he was a hereditary witch, born with the power to perform hard magic, Alec never underestimated the magic a simple cup of tea could hold. His mind wandered to Magnus again and he wondered how it felt like to be cut off from his magic. He had read his file, of course, and knew that he had lost his magic due to the stress and trauma of his childhood. It was far from unusual.

But still, to lose such an integral part of oneself... All his life, Alec had known his magic, had celebrated it and tamed it to serve himself and others in need. To wield hard magic was a blessing and Alec didn´t know what he would do if he were to give it up. Who would he be?

That didn´t mean, of course, that he thought any less of those who could only perform soft magic such as divination, candle magic or the more simple form of runic magic. Clary was a prime example of such a witch. She had been born a mundane with no magical abilities and had diligently studied the craft, becoming one of the best sigil-makers their coven had ever seen. 

And Magnus, he obviously knew a lot about magic and Alec knew that he owned a Book of Shadows. Despite having lost the ability to perform hard magic, he seemed perfectly at ease with performing soft magic and honouring the deities and the craft in his own way. 

Maybe that was the best for him.

Still, something inside Alec, perhaps a witch’s intuition, could feel the tension in the air. The gathering of a storm. 

He could only hope they would be strong enough to weather it.


	4. Ragnor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to say goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little thing just for Ragnor because he deserved more.

They laid Ragnor to rest in the place that had been the anchor of his heart for as long as any of them knew - his garden. 

Magnus had fond memories of the garden. It was the place where Magnus had learned the many ways of being a child after he had been taken in by Ragnor. He had learned to play here, chasing butterflies with a reckless abandon and sneaking a ball behind Ragnor´s back only to get a firm scolding later on when he had absolutely wrecked a row of lavender bushes with it. He had learned to work here, diligently tending to both the herb and vegetable garden even when all he wanted to do was to curl up with a book and a cup of lemonade because it was a chore that was trusted to him. He had learned kindness when he fished bumblebees out of the pond and laid then out in the sun to dry. He had learned responsibility when he tried to sneak back into his room during the night and had crash-landed on one of Ragnor´s beloved Manzanita trees.

Magnus chuckled lightly at the memory. The mead hadn´t been worth it to be grounded for a week and having to harvest snail slime until the end of the summer.

Most importantly, however, Magnus had learned what the love of a parent really was. Ragnor had been forever patient and caring towards him. He clothed and fed him, gave him a room and a bed he could call his own. He taught Magnus how to speak English and how to use the good craft. 

Ragnor showed Magnus that he didn´t need to prove himself over and over again just to deserve a shrivel of love and care. He showed Magnus that he was more than a tool to be used.

With or without hard magic.

And now, Ragnor lay on a bed of fir branches in the bottom of a grave, his mangled body wrapped in a shroud of white linen embroidered with threads of gold and green. Fresh flowers decorated his form, lovingly harvested from his greenhouse. There were pink and striped carnations mixed with crimson roses, delicate petals of white cyclamen and even a few stems of purple-pink sweet peas Magnus could find. A pot of honey and a wineskin full of mead lay near his feet with his athame resting by his right hand and his copper sickle by his left.

Ragnor was ready for his passing to the beyond. His body returning to his beloved earth so he could become one with it, giving life to the flowers that will bloom on his grave come spring and his soul parting to journey on in the afterlife, waiting to reunite with them when the time comes.

And now they were ready to let him go.

In perfect love and perfect trust.

He caught Catarina´s eyes, who stood right before him at the other end of the grave, a sad smile on her face. Raphael stood on his right and Dot on his left, their hands linked together in unity. Ragnor would be mourned and he would be remembered for he was loved.

Magnus gave a small squeeze to the hands held in his own and closed his eyes as Catarina started to sing.

It was time to start the rites.

It was time to say goodbye.


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before he was Asmodeus´ son, Magnus had always been his weapon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one was like pulling teeth gosh

“This one, they called her Lilith,” Magnus said as he pointed to a photo of a severe-looking woman with black hair and a pale face. “She is Asmodeus´ first wife, although I never saw them together outside of official ceremonies and sacrifices. Lilith detested the other wives, especially my mother.”

“Why?” Alec asked.

Magnus sighed. “Because she had what Lilith wanted. A child.”

“Oh. And she was alive when you last saw him before the downfall of the cult?”

“Yes,” Magnus said, remembering how the woman had flung a burning torch into the pyre before kneeling down to Magnus´ level and wiping the tears from his cheeks with her ice-cold hands as his mother screamed behind her. “She was alive. Lilith led her own part of the cult. The Church of Talto I believe it was called.”

“Alright,” Alec said, moving the photo to the pile that they needed to confirm by magic. “What about this one?”

He slid a photo of a red-headed woman before Magnus. She was smiling in the photo but her eyes were empty of emotion. Magnus remembered her well, he always thought she looked like a shark when she smiled.

“Iris Rouse. She used to tend to the children, teach them language and basic magic. Asmodeus had her killed but I don´t remember why.”

It had happened during one of the many “ _ uprisings _ ” playing out in Asmodeus´ mind. The politics inside the cult, as much as Magnus understood them as a child, were dangerous at best. A lot of people had come and gone, never to be seen again. When he asked his mother about them, she said that the people who had gone thought they knew more than Asmodeus or they didn´t know enough to be useful.

He himself had taken her life on his father´s command. Had pulled Iris´ soul from his body until there was nothing left. Until her hair turned grey and brittle and her skin dried to her bones. She had died in agony, her mouth open in a scream and her soul bitter on Magnus´ tongue.

Father had stroked his hair afterwards. Had called Magnus his little  _ Ammit _ as the boy transferred the power he gained from Iris´ soul to Asmodeus.

_ The Devourer of Dead. _

_ The Eater of Hearts. _

Before he was Asmodeus´ son, Magnus had always been his weapon.

Alec moved the photo of Iris Rouse to the pile of confirmed dead.

The next picture was of a dark-haired male with a long face and ghastly pale eyes. Try as he might, Magnus couldn´t put a name on him.

“I don´t know, I´m sorry,” He said miserably. 

“It's alright,” Alec soothed with a kind smile. “I can´t expect you to remember everything. You were only a child.”

Magnus frowned. “But I was supposed to help you in exchange for protection.”

“You are doing the best you can,” The other man reached over to cover Magnus´ hand with his own. Magnus noticed, not for the first time, how his hands were littered with small white scars, almost invisible against Alec´s pale skin. “And you  _ are  _ helping.”

Magnus could feel his face heating, responding to the warmth of Alec´s hand on his. They had spent a lot of time together over the past few weeks as they shared most of their meals and evenings in each other's company. He still returned to the precinct during the day, leaving Magnus under Jace´s care. 

As it was too dangerous for Magnus to return to work, he spent much of his time reading and improving the craft known to him. He prayed and meditated regularly, shook off the dust from his yoga mat and started learning more about runes under Jace´s tutoring. 

In all honesty, the down-time would have been nice if it weren't for the grief and dread constantly in the background of Magnus´ mind.

He cleared his throat a bit awkwardly and pulled his hand away to wrap it around the steadily cooling mug of tea in front of him. Alec, too, removed his hand, instead moving it to massage his neck for a moment, his gaze averted and ears pink.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Magnus´ lips. There was no denying that he had found Alec attractive from the first moment he laid eyes on him. And after the shock of Alec being a Trueblood and a detective working for the NYC Bureau of Supernatural Affairs had started to wear off...Magnus had also started to find him gentle and compassionate. 

Alec had become someone to turn to when Magnus became overwhelmed with the grief he felt for both Ragnor and the normalcy he had lost. He didn´t mind when Magnus shuffled into the living room in the middle of the night after waking from yet another nightmare, disturbing Alec from getting much-needed rest on a sofa that was too small to be comfortable. He didn´t comment on the way Magnus stared at him as he came back from the horrors of his dreams, desperately latching onto him as an anchor of reality because Alec had never been a part of his twisted childhood. He wasn´t bothered when Magnus, too confused by  _ when  _ he was, snapped at him in  _ gehennic _ .

Alec never forced him to talk and never offered any false platitudes. More often than not, he would instead brew them both a cup of tea from his extensive collection and sit with Magnus at the small kitchen island that had somehow become his rock. Sometimes Alec would tell him stories or legends, sometimes he would read a chapter of his book of the night to Magnus and other times they would just sit in silence until Magnus could breathe again.

Until he felt  _ human  _ again.

He never told Alec about his dreams because he didn´t think he could explain to him that the screams tearing through his mind had often been caused by him. He had only ever told Ragnor what he really was, what he had done. Maryse, of course, knew some of what he had been part of as one of the Cult of Asmodeus but she had no clue about the vile power coursing through Magnus´ veins, locked away but still there. Sometimes Magnus could feel it, rising like bile in his throat when he was overcome with emotion, burning just beneath his skin and aching in his lungs.

He had thought that he had locked his magic away for good. That he had finally started to heal, to forgive himself for the lives he had been forced to take.

And now the old scars were torn open once again.

Deciding to show Alec, and himself, a bit of mercy, Magnus reached for the last photo and flipped it over, his heart stuttering in his chest as he stared at the woman pictured on it. He knew those dark eyes and crimson lips, had loved the person they belonged to even if she seemed more haggard now, with a fresh scar marring her pale cheek.

“Oh,” Alec said somewhat belatedly. “Camille Belcourt. We know that she is alive but I was meaning to ask if you remember her from your...childhood. We suspect that she has connections to whatever remains of the cult. Possibly an informant of sorts.”

“I remember her, but not from my childhood,” Magnus said, causing Alec to look at him with a confused frown. He cleared his throat roughly, trying to force down the sting of hurt and betrayal. “Until late last year, Camille Belcourt was my fiancé.”


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec looked at him and their eyes locked for a moment. Even as his eyes gleamed with power, his face dropped in regret, most likely in response to Magnus´ evident fear of him, before independently staggering to the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It´s Britney, bitch. It´s actually been a while, I´ve had a crazy few months with work and school and moving apartments but I´m trying to find a good writing schedule!
> 
> Thank you for reading, still!

A few days later, Magnus was sitting on the couch, a warm cup of tea on his hands and his feet tucked underneath him while Jace was busy prowling the room, his phone gripped in an iron grasp. He was tense enough for Magnus to sense it, his anxiety feeding into Magnus´ worry.

Alec was late. He should have been at the safe house hours ago.

It was evident that Jace knew more about the situation than he let Magnus on as he had been growing more and more agitated since the morning. At one point during the day, he had gotten a message, most likely from Isabelle, and had retreated to the corner where Alec´s small travelling altar lay, falling on his knees and lighting the candles while murmuring an incantation of protection under his breath.

Magnus had kept to himself, offering quiet support by staying in the same room as Jace and semi-calmly working on his Book of Shadows. He didn´t know the words to soothe Jace with and, even if he did, he figured they would do little to ease his worries.

A phone rang and Jace jumped to answer it.

“Where´s Alec?” He said into the phone. “Is he alright?”

Magnus heard a muffled reply and then the long string of curses Jace let out before closing the call and storming out of the apartment, the door slamming behind him. He got up from the couch and set on making a cup of tea, knowing that Jace wouldn't leave him alone for too long and that he was most likely coming back up with Alec in tow.

He wasn't wrong. In just a few minutes Jace barged in, dragging with him Alec, who was white in the face, covered in blood and reeking of the unmistakable stench of black magic. Magnus dropped the cup he was holding, instinctively cowering from the perceived danger that any signs of the dark arts inevitably brought.

Alec looked at him and their eyes locked for a moment. Even as his eyes gleamed with power, his face dropped in regret, most likely in response to Magnus´ evident fear of him, before independently staggering to the bathroom.

A silence so heavy laid on the apartment that you could hear a pin drop. A silence only disturbed by the sound of Alec heaving and retching in the bathroom.

“Why…” Magnus started to ask, only to be cut off by a stern look from Jace he hadn't thought the blond would be capable of.

“He saved a child's life today,” Jace said seriously before leaving to join Alec in the bathroom. “That's all that matters.”

Magnus was left alone in the kitchen, reeling. Distantly he heard the shower turning on and Jace´s quiet voice as he talked to Alec who seemed to let out a sob now and then. It was clear that the other man had used black magic, most likely for the first time in his life. Magnus was intimately familiar with the vile feeling it left behind, the suffocating perversion that lingered for days.

And yet, black magic was the closest thing to a drug that a witch could abuse. While it brought with it pain and unease, the power gained from it was enough to beckon the users back for more. He had seen it in Alec´s eyes, had felt it thrumming under his skin.

Alec had tasted power. And he wanted  _ more _ .

Jace reappeared in the living room after a while, dragging Alec, who was still clearly out of it, behind him by hand. “Sit.” He said patiently, showing the other man down on the couch. Wearing only a thin T-shirt and sweatpants, Alec shivered in the relative warmth of the apartment. “I´m going to get the first aid kit, alright. Stay here.” Jace sighed, heading back towards the bathroom.

“Are you...alright?” Magnus tried quietly, cringing to himself. What a stupid question it was. Of course, Alec wasn´t alright but the man only nodded absently, his teeth chattering as he shivered. Magnus inched closer to him, still wary, and, grabbing a throw blanket discarded at the other end of the couch, gently draped it across Alec´s shoulders.

Only then he noticed Alec´s hands that were lying limp on his lap and the soaked through bandages wrapped around both of his wrists.

Fuck.

“Would you like some tea?” Magnus asked. “It might help with the cold.”

Alec nodded again and, before he could leave, reached out to grab his hand. Magnus fought back nausea that rose in him as Alec´s tainted flesh touched his.

“Thank you.” He said quietly, his eyes filled with unshed tears and at that moment, Magnus understood that whatever he felt at the aura of death and decay permeating from the other man, Alec must have had it worse. He had subjected himself to the dark arts willingly in order to save a child, had maimed his flesh to protect another, and was now suffering the consequences. 

“Of course,” Magnus tried to smile kindly, giving Alec´s hand a small squeeze of support. “I´ll be right back.”

He retreated to the kitchen, wiping away the spilt tea and shards of glass before setting on brewing a new cup. Distantly he heard Jace talking to Alec in hushed voices, his voice sounding gentle even if he clearly admonished Alec for what he had done.

Magnus didn´t realise how much time had passed until Jace appeared in the kitchen, startling him.

“I hate to leave but my babysitter has to go home and I can´t leave Ana alone,” Jace said quietly before looking over his shoulder to the living room and dropping his voice even more. “Keep an eye on him for me. Branwell and Underhill are keeping watch outside so you are in safe hands and Izzy is coming over in the morning. Just,” He sighed. “Just try, Magnus. Alec is still the same dorky guy he was before. Nothing has changed, not really.”

“Sure,” Magnus said. “Say hi to the little princess for me.”

“I will.” Jace smiled, heading to the front door. He yelled out a goodbye to Alec and then he was gone, leaving Magnus alone with him.

Steeling himself, Magnus gathered the cups and returned to the living room where Alec sat still miserable on the couch. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Magnus asked after they had sat in silence for a while.

Alec shrugged. “I just did my job. That´s it.”

“You did your job and you came home reeking of dark magic and with your wrists split to your elbows? Alec…”

“There was a little girl. Her name is Madzie. She had been bought from the black market as a kept witch. She's only six.”

A  _ kept witch _ . Magnus had heard bits and pieces of the black market, of witches being sold to rich households to be used as servants or weapons. They were often taken as small children, easier to brainwash and train so they could be of value.

“The man, not only had he bought her like cattle.” Alec sighed. “He had been abusing him. Physically, mentally...most likely sexually. She doesn't speak. Not a word. When our team arrived at the location...it was like he had been waiting for us. He stood there, in the basement where he kept her with her own athame at her throat.”

Alec swallowed heavily, rubbing at his hands idly. “I tried to talk him down, tried to get her out unscathed with a promise of a reduced sentence even but then I saw him going in for the kill and I just...I reacted. I saw her blood and I boiled his until his eyes bled and he was choking on his own blood. I killed him, Magnus, with black magic.”

“You saved a little girl from a life of abuse, Alec” Magnus tried to soothe him, only for his hands to be brushed aside as Alec stood from the couch, his swaying form seeming uncharacteristically frail. He rubbed harshly at his face and Magnus got the feeling he was close to crying again.

“I know its just...what gave me the right to take a life?”

“And who gave that man the right to abuse a little girl? He was going to kill her, Alec” Magnus, too, rose from his seat, gently guiding Alec to turn towards him by his elbow. There were indeed tears on his ashen cheeks and the man was worrying his lip between his teeth, already blooming scarlet. Slowly, as if to not startle a wild animal, Magnus laid his hands on the sides of Alec´s face and pulled him in, resting their foreheads together, breathing him in and accepting him. 

Like a puppet with his strings cut, Alec went willingly, crying harder at the gentle touch.

“I know you, Alexander,” Magnus said in the space between them. “I know you and you are  _ good _ . This is the difference between you and that man. You don´t want to hurt, you don´t want to kill but you were forced to. He chose to take a life and you chose to save one.”

“But,” Alec tried to argue once more.

“No buts, my dear,” Magnus chuckled lightly, trying to lighten the mood as he poked Alec´s side gently, earning a watery smile. “It´s late and you must be tired. I know I am.”

“Yeah,” Alec sniffled, pulling away from Magnus. “Sorry for keeping you up. I´ll set up the couch and text Underhill and we can both go to bed.”

Pulling out the bedding, Alec started to fuss with the linen while Magnus collected their cups and took them to the kitchen before returning to witness the stiffness and sluggishness of Alec´s movements. He knew that the other man´s body was most likely still in shock, his joints aching and phantom pains cramping his muscles. 

This wouldn´t do.

“Come,” He said to Alec. “It´s best you take the bed today, you can barely fit on this old thing as it is.”

There were only some weak protests coming from Alec before he conceded, following Magnus to the bedroom and carefully laying his weary body down on the soft bed. 

“Magnus,” He said with hesitation before the other man could close the door. “There´s plenty of room in this bed. We could share.”

“That´s fine, I can just take the couch.”

Alec reached for him before snatching his hand back as if changing his mind. “I don´t want to be alone,” He admitted quietly. “Please.”

“Alright then,” Magnus nodded and, taking one of the blankets from the couch he curled up besides Alec who was looking at him with wide, tired eyes. “Go to sleep darling, let yourself rest.”

“Thank you, Magnus,” Alec said and closed his eyes, his breathing slowly evening out as Magnus continued to stand guard over his peace until he thought he was finally asleep.

The last thing Magnus knew that night was the feeling of Alec´s fingers fitting perfectly between his own.


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Better not, Magnus decided as he slowly and successfully untangled himself from Alec´s grip and slid out of the bed. In the end, to see Alec hurt by Magnus´ fault would be worse than to endure the bittersweet pain of not getting to love him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? Me? Updating two days in a row?
> 
> Apparently :)

The next morning Magnus was first to awaken to the feeling of Alec´s heavy arm draped comfortably over his waist and his warm breath fanning out between his shoulder blades where the other man had buried his face. Both of their hands were resting on Magnus´ stomach, linked like they had been when they first fell asleep.

For the first time in a long time, Magnus let himself be as he was, warm and content in Alec´s arms with his heart pounding nervously in his throat. Still, he relished in it, the first frightening signs of falling in love and the exciting prospects of it. Sure he could get hurt, Alec could very well ignore the tenderness blooming between them, the mutual understanding and empathy that seemed to be there without words. In truth, he had many reasons to. Magnus was, ultimately, a job for Alec, an assignment to protect until the threat was dealt with. 

And then there was the issue of who he was.

Reputation was everything for witches, especially for those hailing from an old and respected family like the Truebloods. A witch's reputation could either open doors for them or leave them closed and unanswered, both literally and metaphorically. He knew that Maryse had had enough trouble finding a home for him until Ragnor, a self-declared  _ “despiser of all things sticky and icky, which children inevitably were '' _ caved and took him in.

He´d been shunned before for his heritage. When he first left Ragnor to see the world for his own, he'd decided to settle down in a small fishing village in Maine, known for its strong magical resonation that often lured other witches to visit or settle. He had been called a different name then, had been just a little over twenty-four years old and had decided to start his first magic shop. He´d been happy for a while until his true identity was discovered.

At first, his customers, even those who had stayed and chatted with him after buying their wares stopped coming and a month later the shop itself was burned to the ground. He had lost his first familiar in that fire, a grey stray named Church who was only sweet to him, and, for a while, he had lost his belief in the goodness of people.

Ragnor had once again come to his rescue, taking him in, mending his broken spirit and then once again kicking him out when he deemed Magnus fit to try again. 

He continued with his life, venturing outside the safe-haven that was Ragnor´s little house and into cities big and small. He gained as many friends and lovers as he lost and some even, such as Catarina, Raphael and Dot, stuck around even after learning about his true heritage, becoming his family.

Moreover, his heritage had not only chased people away. It had also been the reason he met some. 

Imasu and Camille belonged in that group. Imasu, at first, was horrified when he found out where Magnus had come from. Only later had he succumbed to the lust of dark magic, even if Magnus warned him against it. He had begged for Magnus to teach him, to share the power that was dormant inside him. Imasu had voluntarily turned towards the _maleficum_ , as many young witches did, and, after discovering the true horrors of it, it had been too late for Magnus to pull him out.

His family, of course, blamed Magnus even though he had begged for them to help Imasu before the darkness took hold. They had ignored him then, not willing to believe that their son would do something so vile. In the end, Imasu was weak against the lure of power and gave too much of himself to the darkness.

Magnus had watched from afar as his family buried him and he had left town under a new name.

Camille knew him from the beginning. She approached him at a party with a blinding smile and his true name on her lips and immediately, Magnus had felt accepted by her. It had been a whirlwind romance, with Magnus giving Camille his all and more. It wasn´t until three years went past that he really saw her for who she was as she tried to force Magnus to use his powers, to manipulate him into being more than he could be.

In the end, with the guidance of his friends, Magnus knew that he and Camille were not destined to be. They´d had a painful but otherwise normal breakup, with Camille´s eyes filled with panic that soon turned into rage and shoes, eventually becoming spells, being thrown at him. He'd taken his things and his cat and moved out of their shared home with his skin burning from Camille´s blazing fury and vowed to himself to never date a fire witch again.

With a frown, Magnus realized that he hadn't seen nor heard from Camille for close to a year now.

Alec then snuffled against his neck, pulling him more surely to his chest and all thoughts of Camille were gone from Magnus´ mind. He really liked Alec, he realised and secretly he hoped that Alec felt the same for him even if it might complicate the other man's life. Magnus was sure that Maryse, for once, would disapprove if any romance were to grow between them. Alec might even get banned from his coven, or from his family. 

Better not, Magnus decided as he slowly and successfully untangled himself from Alec´s grip and slid out of the bed. In the end, to see Alec hurt by Magnus´ fault would be worse than to endure the bittersweet pain of not getting to love him.

With resignation, he headed to the kitchen in order to brew a fresh pot of coffee and find something to make for breakfast. Magnus had a feeling Alec wouldn´t be up to cooking anyway. He had just put the kettle on the stove when a slight knock sounded from the hallway.

Magnus quickly took a look at Alec´s still slumbering form and grabbed his dressing gown before closing the bedroom door and heading to greet their guest who turned out to be Isabelle.

“Hi,” The woman greeted in a hushed voice as he took off her boots and hung her coat to dry. “Is he still sleeping?”

“Yeah, I was just about to make breakfast. Do you want some coffee?”

“Please,” Isabelle agreed enthusiastically, following Magnus to the kitchen where she sat behind the countertop. “How is he?”

“I´m not sure about today but he wasn't great yesterday. He woke up a few times during the night from a nightmare but fell back asleep quickly.”

Isabelle grinned, even though the smile pulled at her tired eyes. “I noticed,” She said slyly.

“Noticed what?” Magnus asked absently, busy whisking together a quick pancake batter.

“You just woke up,” Izzy hummed. “Alec isn't on the couch. Actually, the couch is unmade altogether!”

Magnus blushed scarlet. “Um, well,” He stuttered eloquently. “Alec wasn´t in any shape to sleep on the couch and someone needed to watch over him so...it made sense.”

“Right.”

“Really,” Magnus insisted, unwilling to betray Alec´s vulnerability as he wasn't really sure how he or Iz would react to it. “Black magic, once someone has used it...it's hard to get rid of. It will linger, in their bones and in their veins and it will take so much to overcome the craving for more.”

“I know,” Isabelle sighed, staring listlessly into her cup of coffee. “I just think that Alec really likes you and it's rare for him to open up to anyone. He talks about you a lot, you know. And he has been happier lately! We haven't talked much, you and I, but from his stories, I feel like we are friends already.”

“Of course we can be friends, darling Isabelle! Alec has talked about you, too. I know all about the time he had to take you to prom because you rejected all of the boys who asked you.”

“They could have never lived up to my brother,” Izzy huffed bemusedly.

“You only said no to those guys because you wanted Trevor to ask you to prom and instead he ended up asking me.” Came Alec´s tired voice. “So I had to take you or else dad wouldn't have let any of us go. I still made out with Trevor in AP calculus class, though.”

“Alec!” Isabelle cheered, bolting from her seat and straight into his brother's arms. “Are you OK? How are you feeling? Does it hurt anywhere?”

“Yeah, my ribs!” Alec groaned, prompting his sister to take a step back. “I´m fine, Iz,” He said and ruffled her hair affectionately. “Honestly, I am.”

“Good morning, Alec,” Magnus greeted, carefully avoiding looking at the other man. “There's still some time until breakfast is ready so you can go and talk to your sister, I don´t mind.”

“Thank you, Magnus,” Alec said and steered Isabelle into the living room, leaving Magnus alone in the kitchen.

He continued with the breakfast, humming to himself now and then and scratching Chairman Meow under her tiny chin. He heard some of what was said between Alec and Iz, heard the woman tease Alec gently about the unmade couch like he had Magnus and Alec hissing in embarrassment in return.

When the pancakes were finally ready he joined the siblings who had, by then, finished the serious parts of their discussion and had moved onto some good-natured bickering. They ate breakfast in a companionable mood, discussing the latest runway shows (Izzy and Magnus), the latest breakups in 90 Day Fiance (Magnus and Alec) and much more until it was time for Izzy to leave.

She kissed both of them goodbye, forced a white envelope into Alec´s hands and whispered something into his ear that made the other man blush before whisking herself out of the door.

“Here,” Alec said a few hours later, after they had settled on the couch and turned on some tragically comical trash TV, handing him a small card with the words “party hard this Yule” in silver glitter on it. “It's an invitation to the Yule party. We hold it every year in our Coven house. As you are under mine and Jace´s protection you kind of have to attend but I figured that I could as well invite you properly.”

“A Yule party?” Magnus asked with a frown. “Are you summoning something?”

“Uh...no? It's just a party, like those that mundanes have for Christmas or Hanuka but for witches. We eat and dance and play games. Some also take part in the ritual meant to bless the Coven and the Coven house but it is optional.”

“Ah,” Magnus said, turning the card around and smoothing his thumb over the embossed silver lettering bearing his name. “Forgive me, I have never been to a Yule party. Me and Ragnor, we used to celebrate with Cat and the others. Just a few of us for dinner.”

“I kind of figured the cult didn't exactly have positive holidays,” Alec said a bit awkwardly, not wanting to bring forth any painful memories but instead, he saw Magnus´ lips curl in a slight smile.

“We followed the holidays but not for what they represented. It was more for harvesting the collective power in the air so Yule and Ostara and other holidays were used for dark mass and complex summonings.” He frowned slightly as if remembering a distant memory. “When I was very little, before my powers manifested, my mother used to tell me a story during Yuletide. I think it was about a goat? With a red nose?”

“A reindeer.”

“Or that,” Magnus mused before his smile dropped. “Are you sure that this is a good idea?”

“What do you mean?” Alec asked, turning around to stare incredulously at Magnus. “Of course it is. It´s a way to keep you safe as well as a way for you to get out of this apartment for a while. The Coven house is very well fortified.”

“I mean, Alexander, that my name is known to the veiled world. I´m not sure all of the members of your coven would be happy to have the son of Asmodeus amongst them.”

There was a spark of desperate hope building inside Magnus. It had been so long since he could go outside for more than an hour, chaperoned by both Alec and Jace. The party sounded nice, even if a little daunting.

“The members of my coven, they are taught the right of second chances and know well that a bloodline is not a personality trait. You are under our protection, this also includes the coven.” Alec smiled at him kindly. “I know my people and they know the Rede. There is no room for ignorance and hate during times where we celebrate peace and prosperity.”

“Alright,” Magnus agreed after a moment. He figured that as long as he had Alec by his side, he would be fine. “There is one problem, though.”

Alec paused, the cup of coffee he had been nursing half-way to his lips and an adorable frown on his tired face. “Yes?”

The corner of Magnus´ lips twitched in amusement. He had actually nagged Alec for days now, not knowing the mission he had been working on and begging him to take him shopping, even if it was to a corner store.

“The dress code is  _ white _ . I don't have anything white.”

A  _ blatant  _ lie, but Alec didn't have to know that.

Alec rolled his eyes and gave a long-suffering sigh before relenting. “Fine,” He said sourly. “But we are going with Jace  _ and  _ Isabelle.”

“Delightful.” Magnus grinned and almost reached out to squeeze Alec´s hand before thinking better of it. Instead, he enjoyed the comfortable quiet that fell between them, Alec obviously happy at the prospect of Magnus attending the party and Magnus tickled pink at being invited.

Maybe things were actually starting to look up.


End file.
